[IC] MONSTORY

[Riven Wight]

Izzy swallowed, hard, when the Wolf turned to her, and she tried to relax, to show nothing but a display of terrified respect. When he bore his fangs, she stepped uneasily back, her heart pounding in her chest. For a moment, she could not breathe as he spoke, his mouth moving with a voice that did not belong to Trevor.
“A-as you--” she stuttered, trying to appease him, wishing the wrath disfiguring his face would disappear, but one moment he was a fair distance away, and the next, he was on top of her. Her words cut off in a scream as a searing pain speared through her arm and shoulder.
Spots flooding her vision, the Wolf’s next words to her sounded distant and garbled, but she heard them nonetheless.
It took her a moment to realize the Wolf had left, but all that mattered was that it was gone. And still in Trevor’s body. Eyes scrunched shut and teeth grinding together, Izzy rolled onto her stomach with agonized groans, propping herself up on her remaining arm as crimson soaked the sidewalk.
With heaving breaths, she forced herself into a kneeling position She looked to her shoulder with a mix of pain and shock, then unwrapped her thin scarf from her neck with a shaking hand. Though she didn’t know her full limitations, she had no desire to find out if severe blood loss was one of them.
She had to move. And fast.
With no little effort and in more time than she would have liked, she managed to wrap the scarf around the wound, trying to stifle a cry when she tightened it with hand and teeth to stanch the wound. Bent over, her hand a tight fist on the sidewalk in front of her, she looked to Trevor’s guardians.
She bent her head, gave a groaning sob, then forced herself unsteadily to her feet. There was no telling what the two had seen, whether or not they thought Trevor had attacked them. She could not leave them in the open--the dark stain saturating the pavement was suspicious enough on its own, if anyone decided to venture out this late--but there was no way she could drag them, one-handed and bleeding, back to their beds to hope they would wake up thinking everything was a nightmare.
Swallowing hard, she wiped the blood slickening her hand onto her pants and began the tedious task of dragging the two into the nearest alleyway, making sure they were out of sight, though she treated them none-too-gently. She checked to see if they were still alive, letting the pain radiating from her shoulder fuel an anger for the Wolf and toward herself; she could not do anything to help her friend regarding his living situation, and there had been nothing she could do to stop the Wolf from gallivanting about using his body.
Once she was content enough that Trevor’s guardians weren’t visible from the street, she returned to her bike. Her jaw clenched as she looked to the severed limb, laying just outside the glow of the streetlight. It neither regrew, nor disappeared.
She couldn’t leave that there, either, even if she wanted to.
Izzy stuffed the arm in her backpack as well as she could, which had sat discarded and already soiled with red not far from it, and tried to not look at it. She had had more than her share of disembodied limbs for one lifetime. Only this time, it was hers. Her stomach did a few sickening flips. Whether from handling the limb or a loss of blood, she could not say.
Hoping Riley knew of a way to reattach it, she slung the pack over her right shoulder. She walked her bike beside her and took the side roads, just in case, leaning some of her weight on the bike and trying to prevent aggravating her shoulder further. She went as fast as she could toward the park, grimacing and hissing whenever she moved wrong, and hoping Riley would not have gone too far from the park yet. To say things had gotten “hairy” would be an understatement.

[Dead Cruiser]

Before long, Izzy's pedaling gave out, and she collapsed on top of her bike. She had simply lost too much blood, and shock was starting to set in. Funnily enough, she considered the possibility that the trail of blood she was leaving behind leading someone to help her, but then noticed that her blood evaporated not long after it hit the ground. Saved her the trouble of having to explain to the police why she was missing an arm. After that strange, disoriented thought, Izzy blacked out.

15 hours later...

Izzy awoke to a familiar ceiling. The classroom in which the vampire child usually sat and sulked, in the abandoned school. The orange light of sunset peeked in through the cracks in the walls and between the boards over the windows, casting an eerie light on the room. Izzy had been propped up on a bed of desks, it seemed, as she was lifted somewhat off the ground. She tried to pick herself up, forgetting the impairment of her arm, trying to lift herself up with the strength of her left arm. Which was how she discovered that it had been reattached. It hurt like hell to put weight on it, though, and she dropped back to the table as her strength left her. Still, she could move her fingers and everything. A lucky break.

Taking a closer look at her surroundings, she found that the shredded, blood-soaked remains of her shirt had been disposed of, and her upper body was clothed only in her bra and the bandages presumably keeping her arm attached. The sound of a small breath alerted her to a presence right beside her, which had gone unnoticed thus far. The vampire child sat on the bed of desks, close enough to her that his leg brushed against her thigh. He sat clutching his knees as always, looking down at her prone form. Strangely, it wasn't his usual gaze of resentment and hate. Nor his greedy expression when he saw donuts. It was a scornful gaze. Rather than a look that could kill, a look that made you want to kill yourself.

"Pathetic," Izzy could almost hear Cerasus' voice from the child's expression, "A shame to your kind. In this miserable condition just because of a dog."

As if he would ever speak to her. Izzy had no impression that he had worried over her unconscious form, nursing her back to health. He had no reason to. She was human, he was a vampire. They were two parallel lines, destined to never meet. Sitting up with the strength of her right arm, Izzy looked more carefully at his expression. From this angle, it just seemed to be his usual sour look. At most, he was wondering whether to suck her blood while she was unconscious or not. The only source of nutrients that maintained his existence. Even so, Izzy would have to be satisfied that he still wanted to live.

"Ah, you're awake?" Riley sounded from the classroom door, walking in. "Quite the late riser. The sun's practically sunk."

[Riven Wight]

Still walking her bike beside her, her teeth grinding together with each step, Izzy forced herself to focus on the road before her. She did not get far before her world began to spin, and her legs threatened to give out. With a pained moan, she gave in and fell to her knees, her bike clattering to the ground beside her.
With the palm of her remaining hand on the concrete, she glanced to her shoulder, and tried to swallow down a wave of nausea. Despite her attempt at slowing the bleeding, red soaked her thin scarf and dripped from it in a slow, uneven pace before, within seconds of splattering against the road, turning to vapor. At least leaving a suspicious trail of blood would not be a concern.
She glanced down the darkened street, and swallowed hard at the list of concerns she did have. Trevor was still in trouble. The White Wolf was running about town, doing who knew what. The park--and Riley, as far as she knew--was still a good distance away. She had no method of contacting anyone who could help in her present condition. And she was fading fast, a dark film threatening the edges of her vision.
Something between anger and fear rose in her chest. Anger at the Wolf, and at herself for not being capable of doing more to stop the aberration. Fear for what would become of Trevor, and for her life. But at least, she supposed, she would not have to worry about explaining how she lost her arm. That was one conversation she found herself oddly glad to avoid in the moment.
Her teeth ever clenched and hand balled into a fist, what little of her strength remained gave out, and her arm buckled from her weight. Before her head met the ground, her world went black.

Consciousness returned to Izzy sluggishly, like a frightened animal. Izzy groaned and stirred, the gentle glow of daylight just managing to penetrate her eyelids. Her body felt heavy, and the night before felt like one big blur of indistinguishable nightmare instead of a clear reality.
The hard surface of what felt like desks beneath her back made her furrow her brows, still not quite willing to open her eyes. Though she did not remember laying down, she thought she must have fallen asleep at the school. It was, after all, pretty late when she had arrived.
Finally, she opened her eyes, and stared up at the all too familiar ceiling. A light too deep a gold for it to be morning morning shone bravely through any cracks it could, though even its glittering courage only managed to deepen the spooky atmosphere of the abandoned classroom in its sorry state of neglect.
With a heavy breath, she ran her right hand through her hair, wondering how long she had been asleep for, then moved both arms to prop herself up on the bed of desks.
A fiery pain shot through her left arm, making her cry out. She fell back against the desks, breathing through her teeth as the memory of the night before came rushing back. She tenderly reached over to her wounded arm, waiting for the pain to dim into a dull ache, and tenderly fingered the bandages that apparently kept it in place. Only then did she realize why she had felt the texture of the desks better than normal, but the current condition of her arm took precedence over her shirtless state.
Realizing that she had, in fact, moved her arm, she slowly bent her elbow to raise her hand for better viewing, and wiggled her fingers. She gave a relieved sigh and leaned her head back against the desks as the emotion flooded through her; her arm was back where it belonged, and functional.
The gentle sound of a breath made Izzy turn her head to where the child sat against her. During the night’s events, she had all but forgotten about him. A pit formed in her stomach at the expression he gave her, adding a silent insult to injury. It was amazing how belittling and condescending a simple look could be, especially on the face of a child.
Izzy swallowed, and returned his look with a scowl. “Don’t look at me like that!” she snapped, carefully reaching back with her good arm to prop herself up slightly. “I’d like to see you take on that monster in your current state!”
She pulled herself into a sitting position, and glared down at the child for a moment, his expression changing either in a short moment she looked away, or with her angle. She sighed, and her expression softened slightly. She bent forward and placed her forehead in her palm. Her fingers tangled in her hair, her hair tie long since lost somewhere between street and school. She still had not fed Cerasus, she had one arm out of commission, and the White Wolf was still gallivanting about in Trevor’s body, as far as she knew, but the child seemed to want to live, now. At least she had that bit of good.
Izzy’s attention snapped to the doorway at the sound of Riley’s voice.
“Riley!” she breathed when he stopped speaking. She tried to get to her feet a bit too quickly. Her legs still a tad shaky, and she slapped her right palm against one of the desks to steady herself. “Trevor... the White Wolf... It--it’s possessing him or something! I tried to delay him--it, but...” She bent her head and looked to her arm, once more placing a gentle, tentative hand on the bandages wrapping the side of her arm, and licked her lips. “It didn’t exactly work,” she finished quietly. She looked back to Riley. “We have to find Trevor before the Wolf hurts anyone else!”
She took a step toward the door and Riley, but then glanced down at herself. She cleared her throat awkwardly and shifted her weight when she fully realized she was standing in a room with two men, lacking a shirt. “I, uh, don’t suppose you have a spare shirt I could use, do you?”

[Dead Cruiser]

"Yep, yep, I know," Riley waved off Izzy's rash of concerns, "I've already figured as much." He looked at the vampire child, saying, "That's enough, Lil' Vamp. You can go."

The child dropped down from the bed of desks and wandered out of the classroom. There was a remarkable unsteadiness to his gait; as though he was making a great effort to stay upright. Not unlike someone that was sleep deprived. Had he been awake all day, watching over her? Upon Izzy's request for a shirt, Riley scratched the back of his head for a moment, looked around the empty class as though he might find a suitable blouse just laying about, and eventually had a sensible idea. He took off his aloha shirt, leaving himself in his sleeveless undershirt, and tossed it to Izzy. It wasn't dirty, and was in surprisingly good condition, but its smell was not particularly flattering.

"There ya go, hope ya like pink. I'm gonna need that back, of course."

[Riven Wight]

As Riley pondered over her last question, Izzy watched the child leave. Perhaps she had thought wrong, that he had, in fact, sacrificed sleep to watch over her. Concern settled over her face at another thought; were his labored, sluggish steps perhaps due instead to the extra day without blood?
Her attention returned to Riley when the man thought of a resolution, taking his outer shirt off. Izzy caught it when he tossed it to her, and took a moment to straighten it out.
“Of course,” she nodded at his request of the shirt’s return, trying to not make a face at the unpleasant odor it retained. She had smelt worse, after all. “I appreciate it.”
Thankful for the button-down front, she put her injured arm into a sleeve first, careful to not move it too much for fear of hindering its healing.
“Thanks, by the way.” She jerked her head toward her left shoulder. She shrugged her other arm into the shirt, continuing as she buttoned it up. “How do we separate the White Wolf from Trevor? And did you find his parents, by chance? I kind of left them in an alley.”

[Dead Cruiser]

"Thank him," Riley said, jerking his head to the doorway from which the vampire child just exited. "You two are connected, a pairing. Your regenerative power is shared between you. The closer you are, the stronger it is. I got him to stick around; without that, your arm probably would have gone necrotic." He ignored Izzy's first question, instead focusing on Trevor's parents. "I called an ambulance- with one of their phones, of course -and had 'em picked up. They ought to be okay in a bit."

He seated himself, and continued on. "Let me just put this out here: there is no 'we' working on this. Not anymore. Your power is nowhere close to where it was as a vampire, and frankly the White Wolf is completely out of your league. What little regenerative power you do have is neutralized by the White Wolf's very nature. 'Energy drain,' an effect very much like vampirism. Only the Wolf doesn't inflict it with a bite; he can use it on you just by touching you. Wherever he touches, it kills any of your remaining power. It's honestly the perfect counter."

[Riven Wight]

“Really?” Izzy stared out the doorway once more with shocked gratitude. Despite the situation she had placed him in, and the loathing and silent treatment he had given her these past months, he had remained only inches from her so she would heal, instead of letting her lose an arm.
Her attention returned to Riley when he answered her second question. She gave a sigh of relief; though they were horrible parents, she could not imagine how Trevor would feel if the Wolf had used him to kill them.
“Excuse me?” Izzy bit, interrupting his statement of eliminating her from the task. Her jaw and hands clenched as Riley explained his reasoning. Once again, she was utterly useless to help her friend. “I won’t just sit around twiddling my thumbs and hoping for the best! Not when a monstrosity’s marauding about town toward who knows what purpose using the body of the guy I--” She faltered before she ended with ‘love,’ and glanced to the wall with an irritated huff.
“He’s my friend, Riley,” she continued pleadingly, shaking her head and looking to the floor. “There has to be something I can do!” She paused contemplatively. “If... if the White Wolf’s bound to common belief, could we alter its abilities by spreading rumors?”

[Dead Cruiser]

Riley sighed deeply. "I understand that you feel responsibility. It's natural to want to save your friends when they're in trouble. And I imagine that you'll want to pay him back for all he did for you when you were a vampire. But you mustn't try to imitate him. Ordinary folks like you, mediocre guys like me... We can't play the games he can. He's more aberrant than an aberration. More monster than a monster. If you try to imitate him, you'll get yourself killed.

"Even if this was entirely your responsibility, that doesn't mean you have to be the one to resolve it. The problem is that this has already started, and I don't know enough to end it quickly. This is a professional's job, not a role for an ameteur. Especially a kid like you. I may seem like a carefree person, so it may not seem like it, but I am sorry you received such a serious wound. Even though it was just a prevention step, I shouldn't have had you help me on this. It was my failure as a balancer; I disregarded theory and went against policy. The harm to you is my mistake. I apologize to your parents." While it sounded like Riley was trying to comfort her, he didn't seem very serious. It almost seemed like he was amused by Izzy's powerlessness.

However, in a suddenly solemn tone of voice, he declared, "Izzy, from here on, there is nothing you can do. Nothing you can do for Trevor. It's not a matter of feelings, it's a matter of skill and power. If I had to say it, your most important work is not getting in my way."

His seriousness left no room for rebuttal, and so Izzy was forced to leave with her tail between her legs. She checked her phone, which was nearly dead, and found somewhere in the area of fifty missed calls and messages. All from her brothers, of course. On her way home, she collected her bike, which was fortunately right where she had left it when she collapsed. She passed by Trevor's house as well. It seemed much bigger in the shadows of sunset. She knew the house was empty, with Trevor missing and his parents in the hospital. The mailbox read "Hansen," and yet this wasn't a home for Trevor.

Walking in the front door, the sound of her arriving home attracted the attention of Blake, who rushed up to her with a haggard look about him. "Oh, you're home! Are you alright? God, where've you been? Me and Zach were going nuts trying to get ahold of you. Where'd you get that shirt?"

[Riven Wight]

“‘More monster?’” Izzy growled, but Riley continued despite her interruption.
Between Riley’s words and tone, her infuriated expression only deepened as he continued, her nails digging slightly into her palm.
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” she hissed, her face twisted in anger. “I’m not a kid, and don’t bring my parents into this!” She swiped her hand through the air in emphasis of the demand, taking a small step toward Riley. “The Wolf was going to leave after dumping Trevor’s parents on me. It attacked because I chose to try delaying it. Not you, me. I would’ve gone to him even if you haden’t asked me to help, so don’t try playing that card!”
Her gaze darkened when he continued, his tone changing to one demanding obedience. She stood there for a long moment after he finished, glaring murderously at the man, both fists once more tightly clenched.
At last, Izzy gave a heavy snort, then turned on her heels and stormed out of the room without another word. She left the school with a heated quickness, the summery light of early evening warming her skin as she hurried back toward her house. When she had placed a decent distance between her and the school, she stopped, her breaths slightly heavier than usual from her anger and frustration at the situation. She ran a hand through her hair and took a few deep breaths, trying unsuccessfully to calm herself.
She gave a groan as she realized she had forgotten yet again about the vampire child’s needs, and glanced back the way she had come, the school now out of view. Hoping he would be okay for one more day, she pulled her phone from her pocket to check it, hoping that maybe, just maybe, Trever somehow regained control of himself and tried to contact her. Alas, she had no such luck.
Glad the device had somehow managed to survive so long, she spared the warning of a dying battery only a quick glance before checking the many missed calls and messages from her brothers.
She heaved an irritated sigh, and quickly calculated how long she was unconscious for. Coming to somewhere around fifteen hours, she stuffed her phone back into her pocket, her hand following it inside, and trudged her way toward the city, adding coming up with a semi-believable excuse to give her brothers for her absence to the list of issues already mulling around her head in a disoriented mess.
When she at long last reached the small town, she decided to take a short detour, hoping her bike was still in the alleyway as opposed to somewhere back at the school. Without it, traveling between the two places would be a pain. She found it where she had left it, laying against the ground. At least that small factor was in her favor.
Mounting it, ever careful of her left arm, she pedaled toward Trevor’s house on the way home. She stopped outside it for just a short momend, staring at it as if her friend would emerge from the doorway, back to normal. But the house remained dormant, the door still tightly shut, guarding only the possessions of its absent residents.
With a shake of her head, she hurried back to her house, hoping her brothers would be out or her entrance would go unnoticed at least long enough for her to change out her shirt.
But, yet again, with her bike leaning against the side of the house in case she needed it for another late-night run, luck was not on her side.
Trying to wipe her bitterness from her face, the moment she opened the door, Blake bombarded her with questions.
“Aww, I didn’t know you cared so much,” she answered with a hint of playful sarcasm, incapable of keeping her annoyance from leaking into her voice as she went into the lie she had concocted on her way back. “I’m fine, Blake. I woke up early so I could get a good walk in before you guys got up. Lucas--you remember him, right?--apparently had the same idea. Long story short, I managed to rip my shirt pretty bad, and he came to my rescue. I went to his place since it's closer, borrowed a shirt of his dad’s since all his were in the wash, and fell asleep on their couch with my phone on silent. Forgot to check it when I got up, and we hung out for a few hours after that.”
Izzy shrugged the whole thing off, and headed to the kitchen, only then realizing how hungry she was. She went to the fridge, pulled it open, and leaned partially inside, scanning the shelves for something quick to grab.

[Dead Cruiser]

Blake sighed, following his sister into the kitchen. "Well, whatever. I was half expecting you to vanish for a week like in June. At least you didn't run into a monster or anything." He reached over her shoulder from behind, grabbing the carton of milk and walking over to the cupboard to retrieve a glass. "My karate class got cancelled today because our sensei was in the hospital. Guy got mugged, can you believe it? He started telling people he got attacked by a werewolf, probably to save his reputation. I don't know who would ever buy that but everybody from my class is buzzing about it. So annoying."

[Riven Wight]

As Blake spoke, Izzy reached into the fridge and grabbed a jug of orange juice, but nearly dropped it when he mentioned not running into a monster. “Uh, yeah...” She quickly grabbed a pack of hotdogs as he went to get a glass. “Unless you want to count the creepy shirtless guy I saw on the way back,” she added, placing the items on the center island before following Blake to retrieve a cup. “He was pretty hairy. Could’ve been Sasquatch in disguise.”
She returned to the island as Blake started telling her about his sensei. She offered him a smirk at the irony of it as she started pouring juice into the glass.
“He started telling people he got attacked by a werewolf..”
Izzy’s hand jerked as her attention snapped to him, trying to suppress her shock, and splashing a bit of juice on the counter. She quickly caught herself and turned the jug upright.
“Well, a karate master getting mugged. Can you blame him?” she asked, doing her best to sound casual. Was Trevor’s so-called dad her brother’s sensei, or had there been another attack? “Any idea where he got attacked? And what was his name again?”

[Dead Cruiser]

"Not far from the park, I think." Blake answered coolly, completely oblivious to his sister's alarm. "Uh, geeze, he's new, gimme a sec to remember. Laurence... Mizow-... Miskow-... Something Polish, Idunno. But whatever, the guy is a hack. He'll never teach karate in this state again. The least he could have done was come up with a better story, like, the guy had a gun or something." He took a sip of his milk, continuing to mutter, "Freakin' werewolf, unreal."

[Riven Wight]

Izzy took a breath as Blake answered her, trying to at least appear calm. She grabbed a roll of paper towels from the counter, tearing one off as she tried to remember if Trevor had given her any names. Alas, she did not remember him doing so, and the White Wolf could have attacked any number of people close to the park.
“Yeah, well.” She wiped up the orange juice, not looking to Blake as she spoke. “Be careful, would you? Unreal as it is, there’s someone crazy lurking around who can take out a karate master. Don't try to play hero. Avoid the park for a while. Don’t go out after dark. Yadda, yadda.” She waved her hand almost dismissively, then wadded the paper towel up. “Leave that to the police.” She looked to him with a new worry for their parents. “Thinking of, know who’s been put on that?” She held her breath as she awaited his reply.

[Dead Cruiser]

Blake smiled devilishly as Izzy mentioned the police, "Well, as it happens, apparently they're a bit swamped at the station right now, so this one is being put on the back-burner. They think the guy just got into a drunken fistfight. Sooooo... Me and Zach were planning on tracking down the offender!" He struck a radiant pose, which combined with his manner of describing their plan made it obvious how much of it was his elder brother's idea. Demon brothers indeed. "Think about it. Zach is better at karate than anybody I know, and there will be two of us. We could run this guy out of town no problem!"

This was... obviously a problem. If the White Wolf was attacking passerby-- for reasons yet unknown to Izzy --she had no idea how it would react to such provocateurs as her brothers. She had only barely survived an encounter with it by the grace of her immortal body. Either of her brothers would be killed easily. If she tried to tell them not to go out, that would just make them want to defy her. She needed to think of a better way to get them to stay at home. Have them think it was their idea.

[Riven Wight]

Izzy bumped into the glass as she finished wiping up the spilled juice at Blake’s revelation of his and Zach’s plan. Once Zach put something in Blake’s head, it was all but set in stone. Knowing the inevitable, stubborn consequences of arguing against it, she took a breath, grabbed her glass, and turned to face him.
“The back-burner, huh?” She leaned leisurely on the island and crossed one foot over the other. She regarded him thoughtfully as she took a drink of the orange juice as if genuinely contemplating the brilliance of their suicidal plan, biding herself a couple seconds to think.
“In that case,” she began after a moment, trying to keep her voice and expression sincere, “you two are geniuses! Count me in. I mean, three’s better than two. If this sensei’s as good as they say he is--and landed a job as one--I doubt a ‘drunken fistfight’ would put him in the hospital, and not his attacker. The so-called drunk would have to be one heck of a fighter to best someone like that. Maybe the world’s best.”
She paused to take a thoughtful sip of her juice, not looking directly at Blake. “Wonder what kinds of weapons the guy has,” she mused, hoping the prospect of him being better armed might scare Blake off. “Probably armed to the teeth, if he knows what he's doing. Think he'd have a gun or two? Knives? Throwing stars? Ooh!” Her eyes flicked back to her brother. “Maybe he has some of those fist-knife-things, like a real-life Wolverine.” She made a slicing motion through the air with her empty fist, putting her entire body into the motion. “Could be where--Laurence, right?--got the idea to call him a werewolf. Anyway. With me there, if he beats you and Zach into a bloody pulp, there’ll still be someone around to call 911. Well, unless he jumps me, too.” She shrugged. “I’ll put a note somewhere to put something nice on our gravestones. Maybe something like, ‘The Caldwell Siblings:’” she moved a hand through the air in front of her as if reading from a giant gravestone. “‘Strong of heart, but not of body. Rest in peace.’”
Izzy chugged the rest of her juice, and gave Blake as excited of a grin as she could muster. “So, when were we planning on going?”

[Dead Cruiser]

Blake made a sheepish sort of expression, obviously now regretting having told his sister about their plans. "Yeah, uh, I'll talk to Zach about it later."

As it turned out later, their discussion was mostly about how to sneak out of the house so that Izzy wouldn't notice. A task easier said than done, as Izzy's previous experience sneaking out over the last few months had made her keenly aware of the best methods and routes to take out of the house, and she was able to catch them every time. And there were more than a few attempts. After the about the third time, any pretense of Izzy tagging along was dropped, and it became clear that she was trying to keep them in the house.

This went on for a full two days, as the 23rd and the 24th rolled over. Whenever Zach or Blake went out, they were supervised. It was hell on Izzy to have to keep up with them and their buddies, but it was important work. She heard more rumors about the so-called werewolf from their friends. It seemed that there had been more people attacked, and the rumor was spreading considerably. Still no one dead, but considering the strength and speed of the White Wolf, it was likely only a matter of time before one of these altercations went too far. All the better reason to keep tabs on her brothers. Even if she couldn't stop the police or some other vigilante from risking their life against the White Wolf, she could protect her brothers.

Eventually her parents finally got a day off, on the 25th. She explained to them her brothers' plans to track down the supposed Werewolf, and they took over her duties of making sure they stayed on house arrest until the situation was dealt with by the proper authorities. They refused to share any details of the matter with Izzy, but she could just about guess that she herself knew more about the situation than them at that point.

In any case, a day off for her parents was a day off for her. She decided to pick up on a duty that she had so far neglected for that week, and set off on her bike to the abandoned school. She hadn't fed the vampire child for well over a week, and given that he saved her life just a few days ago, he more than deserved it. Rather than at midnight, Izzy rode out around twilight, enjoying the warmth of the summer sunset. Perhaps by arriving earlier she could keep out of Riley's way. Hopefully he would be out and about, trying to track down the White Wolf.

Arriving at the school, however, she was greeted by a most peculiar sight. It seemed that her intuition had been very off for the past week. Lounging on his usual arrangement of desks and chairs on the second floor was Riley, as expected. However, as she looked more closely, she saw that he was actually passed out, sprawled out completely. He looked ragged, tattered, and worn out. He picked his head up at Izzy's arrival, and greeted her casually, trying to keep up his usual composed demeanor. However, the effort of sitting up seemed to be painful for him, and he looked thoroughly tired. His aloha shirt was practically shredded, and scratches were visible in the flesh underneath. He was visibly limp and emaciated. The first time Izzy had seen him weakened since she had met him a few months prior.

"Hmmm, figured you'd come around soon. Was hoping I'd be more recovered by then. Used up my miraculous wonder bandage on you. A real shame."

[Riven Wight]

The next two days following the revelation of her brothers’ plan were arguably a couple of the most torturous days of Izzy’s life. But she succeeded in at least preventing her brothers from going after the White Wolf, and that was what mattered. Even so, her mind frequently wandered to the vampire child, hoping he was doing okay, as well as to Riley, who had, clearly, not been capable of stopping the Wolf yet. And the rumors of the beast that had taken over her friend only spread like a disease through the town.
When, at long last, their parents finally got a day off to take over her job, Izzy did not hesitate to hop on her bike and head to the abandoned school. With Riley’s shirt, which she had thrown in with her laundry the other day, tucked into a small backpack, she pedaled quickly, enjoying both the summery weather, and the feeling of not having to trail after her brothers. Though she doubted Riley would be there at this hour, she could at least leave the garment somewhere for him.
When she made it to the school, she habitually hid her bike in its usual, out-of-the-way spot, then hurried through the darkened school, a flashlight in hand. She made her way through the halls on muscle memory, a path she was sure she could walk blindfolded, to the usual classroom the vampire child normally brooded in.
When she entered, she startled back at the unexpected, but not uncommon, sight of Riley on his desk-bed.
“Oh, hey,” she greeted, unsure at first whether he was sleeping or not. She stepped inside, letting her backpack slide to one elbow. “I thought you’d... be...” Her words faded as she got a better look at Riley. She inhaled at his wounded, haggard appearance sprawled out on the desks. “Riley!”
She dropped her bag on the floor and hurried over to him, her uncertainty turning to whether or not he was alive or dead. She had never seen him in such horrible shape. Until that moment, she had thought of him as being practically invincible, the ultimate “balance keeper” who did not fear looking danger in the eye--or stealing the heart of the King of Aberrations.
Izzy stopped and held her breath as Riley managed to sit up with no little effort, making him look that much worse as his new position allowed her a better view of his condition.
At his mention of the “miraculous wonder bandage,” she glanced to her now healed arm, then back to him. “The White Wolf did that to you?” she breathed, incapable of looking away from his condition. “Are you...” she paused, realizing the stupidity of asking if he was okay, and quickly switched questions. “Is there anything I can do? I mean, I don’t know if it’ll do you any good,” she eyed the severity of how banged up he was, “but I, uh, apparently still have some healing capabilities.”

[Dead Cruiser]

Riley gave a Izzy one of his usual sleazy grins, though it was clear that he was trying to mask the pain that he was in. "An astute observation," he remarked. At her offer of healing him, he waved her off. "No, I couldn't ask that of you. Especially not as I continue to fail so embarrassingly. The White Wolf is a really insignificant aberration. A small fry. Peanuts. I never would have guessed that I'd lose to him twenty times in a row. Must be because I'm hesitant to put the smack down on ol' Trevor." He laughed, but his half-assed joke fell flat following that earth-shaking statement. Twenty times. Riley had fought, and lost, against the White Wolf twenty consecutive times over the last three days.

[Riven Wight]

“Twenty...” Izzy breathed, her eyes widening at the unbelievable number of times he had faced and fallen against the White Wolf plaguing Trevor. “That’s...” she shook her head in disbelief. “That’s insane!” Her emerald gaze hardened. “There has to be something I can do to help, if you won’t even let me try to heal you. It’d be the least I could do for you coming to my rescue.” She jerked her head toward her left arm, now practically fully healed as far as she could tell
“How would you kill the White Wolf without hurting Trevor?” she continued, her reason for coming to the school in the first place yet again pushed to the side. “Don’t you balance keepers--or whatever you want to call yourselves--have some form of backup? Help you can call on when things get sticky?”

[Dead Cruiser]

Again, Riley waved Izzy off. "Don't take it so seriously; that was just me atoning for my own mistake. We're even." In regards to her question about backup, he leaned back heavily and answered, "Yeah, I have a few colleagues from my college days, but they're a tough bunch to motivate. Not to mention, I think they'd be just as effective as me at this, given the circumstances."

He looked Izzy square in the eye, his own dark irises giving his gaze the weight of his knowledge and experience, "So let me lay this out plain. The White Wolf is a low-class aberration. Peanuts. Chump change. Compare it to a vampire, and it's a joke. Something has gone exceptionally wrong with this situation to give me this amount of trouble, more than a vampire. What I think is going on, is that rather than take Trevor over, the Wolf has somehow merged with him. It's the Wolf's malice and power we're up against, but also Trevor's wits."

Riley scratched his stubbly chin, before adding, "Or I could be wrong. Let me tell you a little story. There's this dog, dead at the side of a footpath. Maybe it starved, maybe somebody killed it, doesn't matter. It doesn't have a tail, so you can tell it didn't live a charmed life. A kind man passing by buries the dog, but as he touches it, the dog's spirit enters him. He starts acting out; he drinks too much, he hits his wife, and so on. No one wants to be around the man anymore. He goes to an exorcist, and he's told there never was a spirit; he was acting on his own will the whole time. A simple moral: nobody is totally good all of the time. That's part of what I think we're dealing with: Trevor's dark side, let loose. A wolf in sheep's clothing, but now without the clothing."

Riley sighed deeply, and fiddled with his cigarette. "Truth be told, I don't have much of a plan at the moment. I was going to scout around for a couple of days and see what else I can find out. If I have something for you, I'll let you know. 'Til then, just keep yourself safe."